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dracowars · 3 years

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Hi! I recently found your account and your writing style and content is right up my alley so I’m glad I found it. I was wondering if you could write a Draco x hufflepuff!reader where they are meeting Draco’s family for the first time and Draco didn’t mention their house of half-blood status. Lucius gets angry and things lead to him trying to hit Draco but y/n stands in the way. Don’t feel pressured to write this you don’t like the prompt or don’t want to :)

disgrace | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 3,1k

summary: where y/n's first time meeting draco's parents escalates

a/n: as a hufflepuff myself i really appreciate this request, so thank you very much~ narcissa is actually one of my favorite characters in the hp universe so i really like writing about her <3

warnings: angst, violence, cursing

universe: harry potter

Today is the day. The day you have prepared yourself for for weeks. The day why you have not been able to sleep properly the last two nights. Today is the day you are going to meet your boyfriend Draco's parents, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, for the very first time. To say that you are nervous would be an understatement.

You and Draco have been a couple for two years now, but the appropriate time - more or less - to finally meet them has only occured now. You know how important his parents' opinion is to Draco and it definetely does not help to descrease your incredible nervousness. What if they do not like you? What if they do not welcome you into their family? The worst szenarios are already repeating themselves in your head over and over again.

After all, you are only a half-blooded witch and, on top of that, a Hufflepuff. The Malfoys, on the other hand, are a pure-blooded family who were only sorted into Slytherin for generations without any exceptions, including Draco. Many times you have already heard how much the pure-blood families care for their bloodlines, especially the Black family, Narcissa's family, must have been incredibly strict in terms of maintaining their blood status.

However, you are in good spirits that they will accept you anyway. Why else would they, after Draco told them about you and your own status, have invited you to a first meeting at Malfoy Manor? 'They will accept you' is what you keep reminding yourself of.

With trembling hands and a fast beating heart - too fast for your personal taste actually - you are now standing in front of the big heavy door of Draco's home. So far you have only ever heard of this huge mansion through stories or Draco's tales, but in reality it surpasses all of them.

On your trip here, Draco did everything to relieve you of your nervousness and get you to relax. He also had to confirm you at least a dozen times that you are dressed appropriately for this special occasion with your basic plain black skirt and dark yellow blouse. He himself wears an all black outfit with the turtleneck that you love so much on him. Unfortunately he did not succeed in calming you down and you feel like your heart is going to jump out of your chest any moment. It stops completely when the door is suddenly opened and you are greeted by Narcissa Malfoy who is appearing right in front of you in a beautiful green and black, long dress.

Speechless, you basically stare at her while Draco greets her before reaching out his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side. Now there is no turning back.

Because you are not able to get a word out of your mouth for the life of you which Narcissa notices right away and just gives you a warm smile, starting the conversation herself. "Hello, dear. I am so happy to finally meet you. I am Narcissa", she introduces herself and you shake her hand politely. Uncertainty takes over your features as you awkwardly smile back.

"This is Y/N", Draco helps you out and smiles at his mother. "I-It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy", is the only thing you can stutter out. Oh, how badly you would like to slap yourself right now. "Dear, you can call me Narcissa. You really do not have to be so nervous. I am glad that you two are here", she says friendly and asks you to follow her. Draco softly squeezes your hand to reassure you as you walk around the huge halls of Malfoy Manor. "I have already prepared tea in the salon", Narcissa explains on the way.

Here and there you spot family portraits on the walls, some of them showing a very small and young Draco. You unintentionally stop in front of one of these pictures, looking at your boyfriend in his young years. "Wasn't he incredibly cute?", Narcissa notes which you agree to with a shy smile. "Actually I think he is still very cute", you giggle, causing Draco to playfully roll his eyes. He hates when you call him cute or adorable. At least he pretends to hate it in front of you or others. In truth, he loves when you do. It makes him feel fragile and human.

Narcissa is quietly watching your teasing and can't help but smile to herself. Since she opened the door - no, actually since Draco told her about you for the first time - she noticed how extremely happy he is with you. And that warms her heart. Even if she has only known you for a few minutes, she already likes you. You make her son happy and that is all that matters to her.

Together you continue on your way towards a larger room with a huge fireplace and a classy looking, dark green sofa set. Draco's father Lucius is sitting in front of the lit fireplace, looking in your direction with an expectant expression on his face. Due to the relatively dark room, his face is only illuminated from one side by the greenish shimmering fire and therefore makes him look even more intimidating. For a moment you have to hold in a breath. "Look who is here, Lucius", Narcissa announces your presence.

Lucius slowly gets up from his armchair with the help of his cane and waits for you to come closer. You catch a glimpse of the coffee table which is littered with sweet treats and biscuits and the scent of tea surrounds the room. Lucius raises an eyebrow when you stand in front of him and Narcissa sits down on the sofa to give you enough space.

"Father. It is good to see you again", Draco says, but Lucius does not even flinch a tiny bit, just stares you up and down. "T-This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is my father, Lucius Malfoy", he introduces you to each other and suddenly seems a little nervous, if not worried, himself.

"What a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. What was the last name?", Lucius greets you as he takes your hand, examining it for a ring with a possible family crest. "You can just call me Y/N", you respond as he lets go and gives you a look that you can't quite interpret. "How nice that we all managed to be here at last!", Narcissa interrupts the uncomfortable silence that has occured and points to the sofa. "Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable. Draco, darling, please pour us some tea, will you?", she asks him and you sit down, leaving space for Draco between you and Narcissa.

"So, tell me, Y/N. How did you get to know each other?", Narcissa asks you eagerly, a small smile on her lips. "When we were at Hogwarts for the first time, of course, everyone already knew the Draco Malfoy. Everyone except me. I have never been very interested in other wizarding families and well, somehow he still managed to fascinate me. I did not know him, like at all, just from stories that were told in Hogwarts over the years. But these stories talked about a very different Draco than what he actually is", you start to explain, maybe also ramble a bit, but Narcissa is all ears.

"Y/N saw someone in me that I had not seen myself", Draco continues your story as he sits down between you and his mother, intertwining your hands on his lap. "At first I could not understand why she was even being nice to me, why someone like her is so kind to someone like me. I was always pretty rude to her."

"Oh yes, he really was. But just because he did not want it to be true that someone could see through him so easily", you softly nudge his side while you both smile. "You have to know that Draco never liked to show his feelings openly", Narcissa agrees, handing you and Draco your filled warm cups.

"To this day I do not know how she did it, but she managed to make me reveal my feelings to her and turned me into a better person. It wasn't until later that I realized I had always been in love with her", Draco tells his parents proudly, locking eyes with you. Your bright smile is reflected on his face and you shyly look at the warm mug in your hands. "I am so grateful that our son has someone at his side that takes such good care of him", Narcissa smiles while watching you two. "Are they not made for each other, Lucius?"

Only now you notice that Lucius has not yet said a word and was just watching the scene. He does not respond to his wife's statement, narrowing his eyes while closely looking at the silver snake head on his cane. Narcissa just shakes her head and turns back to you, takes a plate from the small table and hands it to you. "Eat, dear. These are delicious. It is a traditional recipe of my great ancestors", she offers and you take one of the delicious looking biscuits. "What about you tell us something about your family, Y/N", Lucius suddenly demands out of nowhere. "I would like to hear about them."

Confusion is written all over your face at his request. "Well, my family is not really special. My father works in the Ministry in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office and my mother works as a journalist in London. My older sister-", you start to tell him, but you are immediately rudely interrupted. "In London?", Lucius asks, his eyebrows rised. You nod slowly, not quite sure what he is pointing at. "Why would a pure-bloo-"

"It is not that important, is it, father?", Draco sighs and Lucius does not seem to be convinced at all, but falls silent anyway. "So you have an older sister?", Narcissa asks and while she waits for your answer, she takes a sip of her tea. "Yes. She is currently in her last year at Hogwarts", you reply proudly when Lucius clears his throat loudly all of a sudden.

"I am sorry if I missed it but I do not think I heard what house you got sorted into", he shoots you a threatening glare. Draco's body tenses up next to you, making you feel more insecure as well. What is so bad about this mere question? "Oh, my bad! I assumed Draco had already told you. I am a Hufflepuff", you inform him and his eyes, as well as Narcissa's, grow bigger instantly, making you feel like you said something wrong. Which to them you definetely did.

"A what?!", Lucius raises his voice, giving you a pejorative look, while Narcissa just completely stays silent and focuses her gaze to the ground. You look at Draco, scared and looking for help as reality hits you right in the face. Draco told his parents a lot about you, always just the good things and how happy you make him, but apparently he left out the most important detail: that you are a Hufflepuff and a half-blood from the middle class.

"Y-You did not tell them?", you whisper nearly inaudible, a hint of hurt in your voice. Draco is not able to answer as his father furiously gets up from his seat. "What else did you keep from us, Draco?", Lucius barks angrily, making you flinch a little and unintentionally holding onto his arm. "I did not know how to tell them that you are a half-blood", Draco responds, his voice full of shame that he did not have the guts to tell his parents.

"I knew something was wrong with her the moment she walked into this room! You want to tell me this girl is a half-blood, which is shame enough that she even made it into our house, and on top of that she is also a Hufflepuff!?", Lucius yells loudly and points at you with his cane, the anger literally visible in his eyes. "I am sorry. I really thought Draco told yo-"

"How dare you bring her into our house?! That is not how we raised you!", Lucius interrupts you angrily, getting closer to you and Draco. Draco immediately stands up, pulling you with him, your hands still tightly wrapped around his arm. "I knew exactly how you would react and that is why I wanted you to get to know her first before you judge her based on her status which, by the way, does not matter to me because I truly love her with all of my heart!", Draco counters, fumingly clenching his jaw and fists.

"I want her to get out of my house. Now", Lucius commands, grinding his teeth as he is now directly in front of you. He looks at you with such a derogatory expression that you feel totally worthless for a moment. "Maybe we should leave, Draco", you plead quietly, tugging on the sleeve of his black velvet coat, not wanting the situation to escalate even further. But Draco seems to have other plans and continues to defy his father. In the corner of your eye you see how Narcissa gets up from the couch after having enough time to compose herself.

"Don't you understand? She is the love of my life!", Draco shouts at Lucius who is not at all happy about the fact that his own son is raising his voice at him. "You dare to stand against me, son?", Lucius huffs out, stepping forward so that he is only inches away. "Lucius", Narcissa now also interferes and walks next to him, trying to keep her husband under control. But it is already too late.

"I really thought you would be happy for me for once in your damn life and disregard your stupid, outdated rules! I hate you so fucking much!", Draco crys out and even though you can only see him from the side, you are sure that he has tears in his eyes, just like you do.

"LUCIUS!"

Out of nowhere Lucius suddenly grabs Draco by the collar aggressively, Narcissa and you immediately trying to seperate them from each other, and when Lucius dangerously raises his hand all of a sudden, wanting to hit Draco, you stand in between them and catch Lucius' hand just in the last second before it could hit you.

"STOP!", you scream as loud as you can and Lucius swats his hand out of your grip as if you had contaminated him. Narcissa pulls her husband back to put some distance between him and their son. "Have you gone crazy?!", she rebukes him.

"Did he hurt you?", Draco asks, pulling you close to him, his hands on your forearms. "You did not have to do that, Y/N", he whispers as you shook your head to his question and Draco gently strokes over your cheek while you both try to ignore his parents' loud argument behind you. His eyes shimmer sadly when he looks into yours. "I am so sorry", he breathes out shakily. "I was hoping they would accept you, Y/N. I really thought they would-"

You shush him with your index finger on his lips, giving him a small smile. "It will not change my love for you in any way, Draco", you reassure him and flinch shortly afterwards when Lucius knocks one of the cups off the table in anger. "He is a disgrace for our family! He always was! He is destroying our bloodline", Lucius loudly argues with his wife. "Enough, Lucius!", Narcissa raises her voice and seems to be on the edge of doing something she would regret, but she is able to control herself. "I think it is better if you leave now, Draco. I will lead you outside."

Narcissa quickly grabs both of you by the arm before Lucius can say anything and leads you through the huge mansion back to the front door. Once you arrive, Draco turns to his mother, whose face is crested by a heartbroken expression. Draco lovingly takes her hands in his and gives them a reassuring squeeze. "I will talk to your father, I promise", she whispers, her head and shoulders hanging low.

"Don't worry, mother. You are not responsible for his behavior", Draco replys, trying to cheer her up. Narcissa raises her head and her eyes meet yours as she quickly approaches you. "Oh dear. I am so sorry for the inconvenience", she apologizes immediately, her hands on your shoulders. "I could not imagine anyone better than you by our son's side, regardless of your origin. I do not want you to suffer as much as I and my sisters did back then. I do not want to stand in the way of your love. Please, forgive us what happened today."

After her last words, she pulls you into a tight hug, which you return, happy that you at least got her blessing. "Thank you very much, Narcissa. I really appreciate your kind words", you gulp while holding back a few tears. Her words made you emotional, especially because she must have went through the same situation as you right now. To not be accepted. To not be allowed to be with who you want.

As she continues to hug you softly, your gaze meets Draco, who is intensely watching what is going on behind you with a smile on his face. To see how the most important women in his life get along, makes him emotional as well.

"You are such a nice and beautiful girl. Never let anyone get you down, okay? And please continue to take good care of him", she smiles at you after breaking the hug. "I will", you answer, the smile equally as big as hers. Draco walks next to you and puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to give you a quick kiss on your cheek.

"I love you", he states, making you blush because Narcissa is still here after all. "Both of you", Draco adds and Narcisaa nods, opening the door for you to leave. You wave your goodbyes to her and step down the staircase of Malfoy Manor, Draco's arm still wrapped around your shoulder, and walk into the chilly night, the bright shining moon over your heads creating a calm and comfortable atmosphere around you.

Even though everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong, you feel like it has only intensified your relationship and made your love for each other stronger than before. If you can survive such a horrible evening you will survive anything. And perhaps the next time you meet his parents it will end better.

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it. And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

“Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don’t know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I’m (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I’ve always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent.

I lapsed into silence the moment I met his gaze.

That look on his face spoke volumes. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that anything I said would fall upon deaf ears.

Sariel: Are you presuming that I'll understand just what it is you're trying to express in your work if I give you a chance to explain yourself?

I looked at him in surprise, nodding.

The sides of his lips immediately curled up into a sneer.

Sariel: The organizer prepared hundreds upon hundreds of material choices. You clearly had the choice of choosing a more suitable material, yet you still used the most unfitting material: 80 twist Black Chiffon.

MC: That's because I wanted to express the tenacity of "Fashion Designers".

Sariel: You're only creating this to realize your idea.

Sariel: Be it high twist Black Chiffon, or those blasphemous roses that clash so terribly bad that it leaves people speechless...

Sariel: Everything merely falls under your own "Design Ideas", with no consideration whatsoever about whether this is the right way to go about making it into an actual product.

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don’t understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he’d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: …Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you’re trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That’s if we can even call that a piece of work…

Sariel: I don’t know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he’d displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I’d always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it’d also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he’d reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who’d been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-19 Light) / (Chapter 1-19 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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trickstercaptain · 4 years

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DMTNT ALTERATIONS circa 2020 edition

okay okay okay so i’ve managed to consolidate this into four separate parts that deal primarily with Jack in DMTNT ( and, frankly, that’s enough to deal with without me going into my issues with every other character and plot decision lmao ). I’m still not overly fond of the direction they took his character in this movie ( because there were 293243 other more interesting routes to take ) but this is me making it workable because if you fix Jack in this movie you immediately solve a number of the problems with it imo. a lot of this hasn’t really changed from the original posts i made on the old blog back when the film first came out, i’ve just consolidated it in order to move it over and hopefully make it easier to read.

also, particularly when it comes to the continuity section, this is just my personal take on it. I don’t expect any of my partners to adhere to the timeline etc, this is just how I’m choosing to make sense of it:

CONTINUITY WITH OST & THE TRILOGY

Jack and Henry KNOW each other. Jack was a sporadic presence in the young boy’s early life and became a surrogate father to him in Will’s absence ( but never did he seek to replace Will. Jack was always the one telling Henry stories about his father ). Therefore, when Henry receives the message from Salazar to find Jack, and he encounters Jack in that jail cell, the two of them already have a strong relationship and rapport. This also means that Jack is in favour of using the trident not only to defeat Salazar, but to free Will from the Dutchman’s curse.

Post-AWE: Jack briefly meets Margaret Smyth during this post-AWE period, because Carina is the same age as Henry in the novelisation ( they’re both nineteen ). this is also around about the time that she’s conceived and later left in an orphanage by Hector. this is also why I lean towards the headcanon that Jack and Barbossa spent more time together leading this joint crew than is implied right at the end of AWE, and therefore Jack does not immediately lose the Pearl following the third movie.

Pre-OST: during the time between AWE and OST, Jack would have been pirating, regularly ( ish ) visiting Elizabeth and Henry on Shipwreck Cove but, most importantly, looking for the Fountain of Youth. he does eventually find it – or at least locates the caves past Whitecap Bay, hence why he is in a position to lead an expedition there during the fourth movie – but he does not know of the ritual at this point, nor does he actually see the fountain himself.

The events of OST take place seven years after AWE.

The events of DMTNT take place twelve years after OST, meaning that is the length of time in which the Black Pearl has been locked away in bottle-form.

To explain away Jack being in his late fifties at this point yet looking and acting like a man no older than his late forties, even though he doesn’t drink from the Fountain himself in OST, some of the youthful properties of the water rub off on him and slow his ageing process after this point. Jack wonders at whether he has somehow unlocked the secret of effective immortality.

CHARACTERISATION

First things first, Jack is not the useless drunk jester that he is for the vast majority of this movie. He does not make lewd comments about Elizabeth or act as if he does not care about the Turners, nor does he lack the intelligence and wit he possesses in the other four movies.

He is depressed at the very beginning of the film, which results from a curse placed on him by Shansa at Barbossa's request to 'curse his enemies.' This curse is placed on him around a year or two before the events of DMTNT, and immediately hampers his cultivated legend by causing repeated bad luck and disaster at every turn.

Every attempt he makes at getting the Black Pearl out of the bottle or tracking Barbossa down with the intention of using his sword to do so ( in the years since OST I refuse to believe that thought does not cross Jack's mind ) ends in failure. He attempts to barter and scheme for another ship and instead ends up with the Dying Gull, which is so unseaworthy that it strands Jack and his crew on the island of Saint Martin.

Jack has spent roughly six months on Saint Martin prior to the events of DMTNT, and his grand plan to secure passage off of it is to steal from the bank ( with the aid of the mayor's wife, Francis, with whom he is having an affair and intends to accompany him ) and use the funds to refit the Dying Gull and make her seaworthy again.

I am also stating right here that Jack does not demand tribute of his crew following this failed bank robbery and, when it comes to his execution scene, Gibbs does not have to be paid to come and rescue him. That's nonsense I want nothing to do with, thank you.

When that ends in failure, Jack, in a moment of desperation and amplified by the effects of Shansa's curse, gives away his compass for another drink. For a fleeting moment, he gives it away with no intention of getting it back, and that is all the compass needs to lash out and free Salazar.

The compass' reaction is the first moment of realisation for Jack of how far he has sunk in the last couple of years. When Henry reaches him with Salazar's warning, he actually sits up and takes notice and, for the rest of the film, is the same Jack we know and love and actually cares about seeing Henry reunited with his father.

With the trident of Poseidon destroyed, Shansa's curse is lifted and Jack is once again free to do as he pleases.

Jack goes with Henry and Carina on land where they are united with Will at the end of the movie.

THE COMPASS

To explain away that Jack has given away his compass MULTIPLE times throughout the trilogy without any serious repercussions such as... whatever the Devil's Triangle is, I'll firstly note that each time he has bartered it away to somebody, the intention on his part has never been permanent. He has always intended to get it back somehow or use the bartering away to further his own ends, and through whatever laws of magic or physics has always obtained it again.

The difference in DMTNT is that Jack gives it away with no such intention, and that is what constitutes as betraying it. Jack and the compass are inextricably linked and have been ever since he was given it by Tia Dalma as a child: the compass is a powerful enough magical artefact in my opinion to have a consciousness or soul of some kind, in the same way that the Black Pearl is implied to have. In betraying it, the compass is spurred to react.

I don't like the idea that the compass caused Salazar to be trapped inside of the Devil's Triangle ( since Salazar and his crew went down as they entered -- that had nothing to do with the compass ), but instead I interpret that freeing Salazar is the compass' reaction to being betrayed. It lashes out and causes the earthquake in order to punish Jack and, on some level, spur him on to restore his reputation and break his own curse that's plaguing him.

THE FLASHBACK

tl;dr; i actually don’t mind this scene in most of its execution, but this is me fitting it into the wider canon of TPOF and my own headcanons that predate this movie. this is also me fitting it into POTC’s own canon.

The ship Jack is on is NOT the Wicked Wench. Nor is he made captain of it through his actions against Captain Salazar. Instead, he is a sometimes crewman on an unspecified ship sailing from Shipwreck Cove and comes up against the Silent Mary in battle. Jack's actions and quick thinking save the lives of those on his ship and others trying to escape the carnage.

Jack does not gain his 'sparrow' moniker from Captain Salazar. Firstly, there is no plausible way for Jack to overhear or know that Salazar refers to him as a sparrow given that they do not say a single word to each other ( other than Jack shouting in the crow's nest ) and Salazar spends the next several decades trapped inside of the Devil's Triangle, and secondly my own interpretation is that Jack obtains his last name from his mother.

Jack did not receive his compass from the captain of the ship he's on in the flashback, but from Tia Dalma as per trilogy canon. He also does not receive pieces of his iconic costume from the crew as tribute.

Jack did not realise that Salazar would end up trapped inside the Triangle. He saw the ship get destroyed by the rocks and go down once it entered the cavern and so Jack assumed, for the next forty years, that he’d killed both Salazar and the rest of his crew.

Over the next forty years, the Devil’s Triangle became a place of legend ( enough for Henry to be able to recognise it ). It was rumoured that any ship who strayed too close would disappear without trace ( much like the Bermuda Triangle myth ). Jack eventually hears about the rumours but thinks nothing of them, and certainly doesn’t put two and two together that his compass could potentially lead to Salazar’s escape.

#&. he plays things closer to the vest now ( headcanon. )#&. depths few had ever begun to glimpse ( meta tag. )#&. verse. bad luck dogs you day and night ( dmtnt. )#it's been three years and still my prevailing thought when it comes to this movie is #/how does jack's compass cause an earthquake/#/how does salazar know jack has a magical compass and that it can get him out of the triangle/#so here i am nixing it for the most part lmao #this movie is so poorly written it's not even funny #but anYWAY here this is for those rare occasions when i write in this verse lmao #it'll also be going up on the verse page :'))

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reallifesultanas · 4 years

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Portrait of Osman I / I. Oszmán portréja

Everyone know that Osman was the founder of the House of Osman, he remembered as the first of the Ottoman sultans. No one knows when or where he was born, and for a long time not a single artefact existed that could be confidently dated to his lifetime. There are two coins (which I already mentioned in the previous post about Ertugrul) from his time, and there are some legends, some descriptions about him, but we don't know too much about him still. So we know Osman was a historical person, but who was he?

His early life

Legends say he was born around 1260 as the son of Ertugrul Bey and Halime Hatun, and was from the Kayi tribe. It seems he had at least two brothers, Gündüz and Savci, who were both older than him. But there are no evidences for these legends. Yes based on the coins he was the son of Ertugrul so it can be true.

He became the bey of his tribe after the death of his father. Some chroniclers hint that after Ertugrul’s death Osman’s uncle, Dündar became the bey, but Osman didn’t want to accept, so he rebelled. Otheres says Osman ebcame the leader and it was Dündar who didn't accept him. Anyhow most chroniclers agree that Dündar and Osman had a fight and in the end Osman killed Dündar with an arrow. The modern sources stay silent about this, because they find it not too glorious to kill your own uncle for the throne. It's hypocrite in my opinion, since fratricide and civil wars were main part of the Ottoman History. So in my opinion there was nothing wrong with this act (if Osman really did that) in such circumstances. Anyhow he became the leader of his tribe at a relatively young age.

Osman's dream

Osman at first was loyal to the Seljuks, but then he began to act independently around 1299. The reason of this act is not known. But the legends say that the whole idea of the Empire – and so his kind of rebel againsts the Seljuks – began quite literally with a dream:

"One night, the first sultan, Osman, was sleeping in the house of a holy man called Edebali when: „He saw that a moon arose from the holy man’s breast and came to sink in his own breast. A tree then sprouted from his navel and its shade compassed the world. Beneath this shade there were mountains, and streams flowed forth from the foot of each mountain. Some people drank from these running waters, others watered gardens, while yet others caused fountains to flow. When Osman awoke he told the story to the holy man, who said “Osman, my son, congratulations, for God has given the imperial office to you and your descendants and my daughter Malhun shall be your wife”."

So after this dream Osman decided that he will creat his own Empire and will not be a servant of another state. Most probably this is just a legend, because these kind of „dreams” have a history with the Central-Asian origin nomad people. For example in the early Hungarian history there is also a dream like this, called „Emese’s dream”. This one is basically the same and story. Emese was the wife of Chief Ügyek, and she was impregnated by a turul bird. The turul appeared to her in a dream and told her that from her womb a great river would begin, and flow out over strange lands. According to dream interpreters, this meant that she would give birth to a son who would lead his people out of their homeland, and that her descendants would be glorious kings. Emese's son was named Álmos, whose name derives from the Hungarian word "álom", meaning dream, thus "Álmos" can be interpreted as "the Dreamt One". And it happened like that, because Álmos became the founder of House Árpád. Interesting fact is that the name Emese had a türk origin, originates from the Old Turkic eme, ana or ene, which mean mother.

So we clearly can see, that these kind of drem-stories can be found in any Central-Asian origin nation's legends and they aremostly have the same meaning.

Osman's life after his dream

Most probably it didn't happened like, Osman had this dream – or not – and he started to build an Empire... Most probably he never even dreamt of such a huge Empire, what later happened to the Ottomans. Most probably he just wanted to make his own beylik, with his own cities.

His first indisputable evidence comes from a Byzantine chronicler, who tells the story of a battle at Bapheus, quite near Nicomedia (Izmit), in July 1302, in which Osman and a force of nomad archers defeated a Byzantine force accompanied by Alan auxiliaries. It is possible that badweather upstream and a rare flood of the Sakarya river downstream made it attractive to Osman and other türk beys to seek to recoup damage to their herds in the lowlands. At this time Osman was no more powerful than a number of other minor beys.

Within a very short time, türk raiders had reached the Sea of Marmara. A contemporary Byzantine chronicler describes how news of Osman’s victories spread and attracted Türks from other areas of western Anatolia to join his following, and how his force was strong enough to defeat a Byzantine army near Nikomedia (Izmit). From their base in the Sakarya valley, where Osman had occupied the old Byzantine fortified places, his men plundered the countryside to the west, forcing the inhabitants into the walled towns. These remained secure, since Osman obviously lacked the military skills to undertake formal sieges: his assault on Nikaia failed. He did take several other fortresses and fortified towns in the Sakarya valley, using them to store his plunder. In a similar manner he destroyed the countryside around Bursa, but also failed to take that city.

His personal life and family

Osman had at least two wives. One was Edebali's daughter for sure, as his dream also suggest. She was named Rabia Bala, or simply Bala but sometimes called Malhun as well. She was the mother of Alaeddin Bey and maybe had other children also. It seems she may had problems with the nomadic lifestyle or her relationship with Osman went wrong, because she spent the last years of her life with her father. She died in Bilecik in 1324 and was buried next to her father’s tomb.

Osman's other wife was Mal Hatun, who possibly was the daughter of the ruler of the Umuri or Amouri principality. According to a Byzantine historian “a son of Umur fought with Osman in one of his first raids against local Byzantine lords”, which may explain the marriage between Osman and Mal Hatun as a political alliance. Mal Hatun was the mother of Osman’s successor Orhan, and she actually outlived her husband as she was buried in the family tomb around Osman’s grave in Bursa. It is not known when she died.

In the first sentence I said at least two wifes... Well yes "a historical tradition regarding the acquisition of one of Osman’s wives calls to mind the Turkish nomadic practice of acquiring women through raids on neighboring tribes. As the story goes, one day on his way to Eskisehir. Osman caught sight of a woman in the village of ltburnu, fell in love with her, and, without telling his father, sent someone to ask for her in marriage. She refused on the grounds that she was not worthy of him, although this may have been an excuse, since there were rumors that Osman intended only a brief dalliance with her. Osman was spurred to kidnap the woman when an erstwhile ally of his, listening to his description of her manifold virtues, decided to take her for himself. Although the sources confuse this woman with Mal Khatun and Edebali’s daughter, she was clearly a person of lesser status. The details of the story indicate that the kidnapping occurred when Osman was quite young and before he had gained more than a local reputation. Women of standing themselves, selves, Edebali’s daughter and Mal Khatun probably married a more mature and powerful Osman."

Osman had at least eight sons and one daughter.

Osman's eldest son - whose name is unfortunatelly unknown - was given to the Selcuk Sultan Gıyasuddin III Keyhusrev to be raised in his household when Ertugrul stipulated a peace treaty with him. He had descendants who were alive at the time in which Bayezid I conquered Malatya. The fact that this son of Osman was sent to the Seljuk Sultan during Ertugrul’s life, suggest that he maybe was born to the women, who Osman captured.

His second son most probably was Orhan, who was born around 1281 and became the second ruler of the Ottoman dynasty. During Orhan's reign the little principality began to acquire a more settled aspect. Osman’s territory had contained no large towns. But in 1326, however, the city of Bursa succumbed to starvation and became, from this date, the first capital of the Ottomans. In the next year, following an earthquake which damaged its fortifications, Orhan’s men occupied the Byzantine town of Lopadion (Ulubat), towards the Dardanelles. Moreover Orhan was the first one who established an Ottoman bridgehead in Europe. He achieved this by exploiting a civil war in Byzantium between the rival Emperors John [VI] Kantakuzenos and John [V] Palajologos. Kantakuzenos sought allies among the Turkish rulers of western Anatolia and, in 1346 formed a pact with Orhan by marrying him to his daughter Theodora. The strategy was successful and, in 1347, Kantakuzenos entered Constantinople and proclaimed himself Emperor, with the other John as his co-regent. So beside his great victories Orhan was the first to use marriage as a tool to get himself supporters. His successors used to do this until Mehmed II, who changed the tradition and stopped the sultans from marrying noble women.

His third son was Alaeddin Ali Bey, who was born around 1290 and later he was made governor of Bilecik. He had a son Kiliç Bey, and their last descendant died in 1530. Aleaddin also built a mosque complex in Bursa. He didn't lived a long life, sources don't agree, but most probably he died around 1330.

Osman's other children are less knowns. We don't know anything for example about Savci Bey, just that his son married one of the daughters of Orhan

I. Melik Bey is also not known, we only know that he had a daughter.

Çoban Bey was surely Osman's son, because he built a mosque in Bursa, and by his complex it is known who he was.

Osman's other son was Pazarli Bey, who was the commander of his brother Orhan I for years, so maybe he was the closest to Orhan? Pazarli Bey also had a daughter, and two sons.

Osman also had another son, Hamid Bey, but we have zero information about him.

Osman had most probably more than one daughter, but we only have evidence for the existence of one. Fatma was named in the foundation deed of later Orhan I, so we know that se existed, but nothing else.

It seems like we know a lot about Osman, isnt it? But actually, even his name is the subject of some controversy!

A Greek historian gave us the description of the Sakarya flood and is the one contemporary writer to mention Osman ’s name, did not call him Osman at all but rather Ataman. The surprising notion that Osman had another name finds support in two later sources. Ataman is a Turkish name or maybe Mongol, while Osman is impeccably Muslim. This has led to some suspicion that Osman, or Ataman, the Ottoman, might have been born a pagan, that he may have taken his new name Osman later when he became a Muslim. But if this were true, if Osman were indeed a convert to Islam who changed his name, why would his sons have kept their genuinely Turkish names, who were Muslims beyond any doubt? From what the greek historian wrote, about the only thing we can surmise of the Turk he called Ataman is that he was a warrior.

Osman's death and legacy

The date of Osman's death too is uncertain. He probably died by 1324, the date of a trust deed registered by his son Orhan. The Moroccan world traveler Ibn Battuta, who visited the area in 1331 - 32, wrote that Osman was buried in the mosque of Bursa, probably the former Church of Saint Elias. This church is no longer standing, due to an earthquake two hundred years ago. Osman's remains now lie next to those of Orhan, father and son in suitable twin mausoleums erected in 1863. All in all it was Osman who was the founder of the Ottoman Empire, and who was to give his name to the Ottoman – or Osmanlı – dynasty.

Used sorces: Colin Imber - The Ottoman Empire, 1300-1650; Peirce - The imperial harem; Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey, 1071-1453; Howard - A History of the Ottoman Empire; Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar Cilt 2; Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları

* * *

Azt mindenki tudja, hogy Oszmán volt az Oszmán-ház megalapítója, és úgy emlékszünk rá, mint az első oszmán szultánra. Azonban senki sem tudja mikor és hol született, évszázadokig létezésére sem volt bizonyíték. Azóta előkerült például két aranyérme, melyeket ő veretett (és amelyekről már szó esett a korábbi, Ertugrulos posztban); ismert néhány leírás is róla, azonban nem tudunk még mindig túl sokat. Tehát akkor ki is volt Oszmán?

Korai évei

A legendák szerint Ertugrul Bég és Halime Hatun fiaként született 1260 körül a Kayi törzsben. Azonban nincs erre bizonyítékunk. Igen, itt vannak az érmék, melyek arra utalnak, hogy Oszmán apja valóban Ertugrul volt, de semmi mást nem tudunk biztosan.

Apja halála után vált a törzs fejévé. Néhány történetíró szerint Ertugrul halála után annak öccse, Dündar lett a bég, amelyet Oszmán nem fogadott el és fellázadt ellene. Más források szerint épp fordítva történt és Oszmán lett a bég, Dündar pedig fellázadt ellene. Akárhogyan is, abban egyetértenek a történetírók, hogy Oszmán és Dündar harcoltak egymással, melynek végén Oszmán egy nyíllal megölte Dündart. A modern források csendben maradnak ezzel kapcsolatban, hiszen méltatlannak érzik, hogy a dinasztia alapító ilyen véres családi küzdelem árán lett bég. Ez véleményem szerint nagy álszentség, hiszen tudjuk, hogy a testvérgyilkosság és a polgárháborúk milyen komoly részét tették ki a birodalom több évszázados történelmének. Véleményem szerint tehát a körülmények ismeretében semmi rossz nem volt abban sem, ha Oszmán valóban így ragadta magához a hatalmat. Mindenesetre azt tudjuk, hogy Oszmán kifejezetten fiatalon vált a törzsét vezető béggé.

Oszmán álma

Oszmán törzsfőként eleinte hűséges volt a Szeldzsuk Államhoz, azonban idővel, 1299 körültől függetlenül kezdett el cselekedni. Ennek oka ismeretlen. A legendák szerint az egész birodalom alapítási ötlet - és ezzel együtt a Szeldzsuk Birodalom elleni lázadás ötlete - egy álommal kezdődött.

"Egyik este az első szultán, oszmán egy szent ember, Edebali házában aludt, amikor:"Azt látta, hogy a hold a szent ember mellkasából a magasba emelkedik, átlebeg az ő mellkasára, majd belesüllyed. Ezekután testéből egy fa nőtt ki és behálózta a világot. Lombja alatt hegyek voltak, folyók folytak azok lábainál. Néhány ember a folyókból ivott, mások kertjüket locsolták, míg mások szökőkutat alkottak a folyók vizéből." Amikor Oszmán felébredt, elmondta az álmát ennek a szent embernek, aki erre eképpen felelt: " Oszmán, fiam, gratulálok, Isten téged választott, rád és utódaidra bízta a dicső feladatot. Leányom Malhun legyen a feleséged."

Ezután az álom után döntötte el Oszmán, hogy birodalmat alapít, nem pedig más birodalmakat fog szolgálni. Nagy valószínűséggel ez csak egy legenda, hiszen a hasonló álmok kifejezetten gyakranjelennek meg a Belső-Ázsiai eredetű nomád népek hiedelem világában. Például a korai magyar történelemből is ismert egy ilyen álom, Emese álma. Ez alapvetően szinte ugyanaz, mint Oszmáné. Emese Ügyek felesége volt és egy turul madártól esett teherbe, aki álmában meglátogatta és azt mondta neki, hogy méhéből hatalmas folyó fog áradni, mely új vidékekre is eljut. Az álomfejtől szerint ez arra utal, hogy ő fogja világrahozni azt, aki elvezeti új hazájába népüket és, hogy utódaik dicső uralkodókká fognak válni. Emese később világrahozta fiát, aki az Álmos nevet kapta, utalva Emese álmára. Külön érdekessé teszi Oszmán szempontjából a történetet az, hogy maga az Emese név is türk eredetű, amely az ősi török eme/ana/ene szóból ered, mely anyát jelent.

Egyértelmű tehát, hogy ezek az álom-történetek megtalálhatóak a legtöbb Belső-Ázsiai nép legendái között, és szinte minden esetben alapvetően hasonlóak, hasonló jelentéssel bírnak.

Oszmán élete az álma után

Nyilvánvalóan az álom után nem az történt, hogy Oszmán hirtelen birodalmat akart építeni (már ha álmodott egyáltalán)... Valószínűleg még csak álmodni sem mert arról, ami valójában történt leszármazottjaival, hogy ilyen hatalmas birodalmat hoztak létre.Valószínűleg ő csak egy kis bégséget akart magának, néhány városkával.

Első kétségtelen bizonyíték Oszmán uralkodásáról egy bizánci történetírótól származik, aki leírta Bapheus-i csatát, mely Nicomedia (Izmit) közelében történt 1302 júliusában. Eszerint Oszmán és nomádokból álló íjászai legyőztek egy csapat bizánci katonát. Lehetséges, hogy az időjárási körülmények nagyban felbátorították Oszmánt. Ekkoriban ugyanis hatalmas áradás zajlott a Sakarya folyó mentén, amely miatt Oszmán és csapatai szükségét érezték a terjeszkedésnek, hogy legyen hol legeltetni és hová menekíteni állataikat. Ekkoriban azonban Oszmán nem volt több, mint egyike a sok kicsi törzs vezetőinek.

Rövid időn belül azonban győzelmének híre elért a többi türk táborba is, elkezdték őt csodálni és egyre több türk tábor csatlakozott hozzá Nyugat-Anatóliából is. Így a türkök már a Marmara tengerhe is elértek nemsokára. A Sakarya völgyben táboroztak, és innen indultak újra meg újra lerohanni a környező területeket. Valóban sikerült ezzel területet, legelőket szerezniük, azonban egyetlen fallal körülvett várost vagy erődítményt sem sikerült bevenniük. Oszmán megpróbálta Nikaia-t is bevenni, ám nem járt sikerrel, mint ahogy a Sakarya-völgy más városainak esetében sem. Hasonlóan járt Bursával: bár a környéket sikerült meghódítania, a várost magát nem tudta bevenni.

Magánélete

Oszmánnak legalább két felesége volt. Egyikük Edebali Seyk leánya volt, akire az álom is utalt. Rabia Balának, Balának vagy Malhunnak hívták. A források nem értenek egyet nevében. Az bizonyos, hogy ő volt Aleaddin Bég anyja, de lehetséges, hogy más gyermekei is születtek. Úgy tűnik, hogy idővel kapcsolta megromlott Oszmánnal, vagy a nomád élet nem volt nekivaló, de utolsó éveiben visszaköltözött apjához. Bilecikben halt meg 1324-ben és apja mellé temették.

Oszmán másik felesége Mal Hatun volt, aki feltehetőleg az Umuri vagy Amouri területek urának leánya volt. Bizánci történészek szerint "Umur fia Oszmán mellett harcolt, amikor azelőször győzte le a bizánciakat", ami megmagyarázná a valószínűleg politikaiházasságot is Mal és Oszmán között. Mal volt Oszmán örökösének, Orhannak az anyja. Bizonyosan túlélte Oszmánt, ám pontos dátum nem ismert haláláról. Végül családi türbébe temették Bursa közelében.

Az első mondatban azt írtam, LEGALÁBB két feleség... Igen, a történészek szerint Oszmán egyik feleségét a nomádokra jellemző asszony-rablással szerezte. A történet szerint Oszmán egyik nap Eskisehirbe tartott, amikor meglátott egy gyönyörű leányt Itburnu falujánál és azonnal beleszeretett. Apja (Ertugrul) engedélye nélkül odaküldött valakit, hogy kérje ki neki a lányt. A lány elutasította azzal az ürüggyel, hogy nem méltó a férfihoz, ám ez valószínűleg csak kifogás volt. Oszmán ezekután elrabolta a lányt. Sok forrás összekveri ezt a lányt Edebali lányával vagy Mal Hatunnal, azonban egyértelmű, hogy egyikük sem lehetett, hiszen mindketten jóval magasabb rangú nők voltak. A történet részletei arra is utalnak, hogy ez még Ertugrul élete során zajlott, tehát Oszmán igen fiatal volt és nem volt semmiféle befolyása. Edebali leánya és Mal Hatun egy már érettebb Oszmánhoz mentek feleségül.

Oszmánnak legalább nyolc fia és egy leánya volt.

Legidősebb fiát - akinek neve sajnos elveszett az idők során - a Szeldzsuk Szultán, III Giyasuddin Keyhusrev nevelte. A fiúval pecsételődött meg Ertugrul és a szultán béke megállapodása. A fiú Szeldzsukoknak való átadásának idejéből következtethetünk arra, hogy talán az elrabolt parasztlány volt az anyja? Mindenesetre a fiú utódjai egészen I. Bayezid uralkodásának idejéig Malatya környékén éltek.

Második fia valószínűleg Orhan volt, aki 1281 körül született és később ő lett a második oszmán szultán. Orhan uralkodása alatt a kis bégség, melyet Oszmán hozott létre sokkal kifinomultabbá vált. Oszmán ugyanis nem tudott elfoglalni városokat, Orhan azonban 1326-ban sikeresen kiéheztette és elfoglalta Bursa városát. A következő évben pedig egy földrengés után Orhan seregével sikeresen tudta elfoglalni a megrongálódott Lopadion (Ulubat) városát a bizánciaktól. Mindezek mellett Orhan lett az első, aki az európai politikai színtérbe is bele tudott avatkozni. Kihasználta a háborút, amely két rivális között, VI. János Kantakuzenos és V. János Palajologos között zajlott. Kantakuzenos egyezséget kötött Orhannal, ennek megpecsételésére pedig hozzáadta feleségül saját leányát, Teodorát 1346-ban. A stratégia sikeres volt, 1347-ben Kantakuzenos belépett Isztambulba, és császárrá nevezte ki magát. Tehát győzelmei mellett Orhan volt az, aki először kötött jelentős politikai házasságot is. Utódiai egészen II. Mehmed uralkodásáig rendszeresen használták a szövetségkötésnek ezen módját.

Oszmán harmadik fia Aleaddin Ali Bég volt, aki 1290 körül született és életében Bilecik helytartója volt. Született egy fia Kiliç, akinek leszármazottjai még 1530-ban is jelen voltak. Aleaddin emellett mecsetkomplexumot és építtetett Bursában. Nem élt sokáig, a források szerint 1330 körül hunyt el.

Oszmán további fiai kevéssé ismertek. Nem tudunk például semmit Savciról azonkívül, hogy született egy fia, aki később feleségül vette unokatestvérét, I. Orhán leányát.

Oszmán, Pazarli nevű fia Orhan mellett tevékenykedett annak parancsnokaként, tehát lehetséges, hogy a két férfi közel állt egymáshoz. Pazarli bég gyermekei is ismertek, legalább egy lánya és két fia született.

Oszmánnak volt egy Hamid nevű fia is, akiről sajnos nincs semmi információnk.

Oszmánnak mindezek mellett valószínűleg több lánya is volt, azonban csak egyikük létezésére van konkrét bizonyíték. Fatma ugyanis meg volt nevezve I. Orhan egyik alapítványának papírjain, mint Orhan testvére, így ő bizonyosan létezett és Oszmán lánya volt, ám semmi mást nem tudunk róla.

Úgy tűnik sokat tudunk Oszmánról, igaz? Azonban valójában még a neve is ellentmondásos!

Egy görög történész, aki a Sakarya folyó menti ütközetet taglalja Oszmánt nem Oszmán néven említi, hanem Atamanként. A meglepő tény, hogy Oszmánnak lehet egy másik neve is, két másik forrásban is bizonyításra lel. Ataman egy türk vagy mongol eredetű név, amely arra utal, hogy Oszmán eredetileg nem volt talán muszlim sem. Ebből történészek olyan következtetéseket vonnak le, hogy Oszmán talán idővel tért át az iszlámra és vette fel az Oszmán nevet. Azonban ezt cáfolja, hogy fiai kétségkívül muszlimok voltak, mégsem változtatták meg eredeti türk nevüket. Abból, amit a görög történész jegyez az egyetlen plusz információ Atamanról, hogy nagyszerű harcos.

Oszmán halála és hagyatéka

Halálának pontos ideje nem ismert. Valószínűleg 1324-ben hunyt el, mert fiának alapítványi papírjai ezt a dátumot említik. Emellett egy marokkói világutazó, Ibn Battuta 1331-32 körül meglátogatta Bursát és lejegyezte, hogy Oszmán Bursa mecsetjében nyugszik, mely korábban a Szent Elias templom volt. Mára a templom/mecset már nem áll, ugyanis 200 éve egy földrengés elpusztította. Oszmán földimaradványai most Orhan mellett nyugszanak egy ikermauzóleumban, melyet 1863-ban építtettek számukra.

Összességében tehát Oszmán volt az Oszmán Birodalom alapítója és az Oszmán - Osmanlı - dinasztia neve is tőle eredeztethető.

Felhasznált források: Colin Imber - The Ottoman Empire, 1300-1650; Peirce - The imperial harem; Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey, 1071-1453; Howard - A History of the Ottoman Empire; Öztuna - Devletler ve Hanedanlar Cilt 2; Uluçay - Padişahların Kadınları ve Kızları

#osman i #bala hatun #malhun #malhun hatun #rabia bala #orhan i #bursa #ottoman empire #osmanlı #ataman #osman #orhan #şeyh edebali #edebali

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juniperwindsong · 4 years

Text

Four Things Felix Rosier Remembered.

Fall 1980

"And this is Felix Rosier," the Slytherin prefect says, introducing the first year to the teenagers seated around the fire. "Yes, yes. Of those Rosiers."

Eyes turn to inspect the eleven year old Felix. He's acutely conscious of how short he is compared to the older students.

"Well, don't just stand there," says the prefect with an encouraging smile, motioning Felix to join them. "Come. Sit."

Felix takes stiff steps toward the sofa. When he reaches it, the prefect pats the space next to him and Felix perches straight-backed on the edge of the seat.

The prefect's badge gleams in the firelight. So do his perfect, even teeth as he flashes his dazzling smile again. Felix wonders which of those is the main supplier of the older boy's supreme confidence, and how he, Felix, might go about obtaining it.

"So, you’re Evan's...brother?" asks the girl across from him. Her skin and hair are dark, but her eyes are such a light grey they're almost white and painful to look at. They flash as cold and cutting as diamonds.

"Cousin," Felix answers. "But I see him all the time. He stays at our manor most summers."

"Really?" the girl drawls, smiling in a way that makes Felix uncomfortable and tapping her cheek with a long black fingernail. "I'd love to hear more about him."

The boy next to her glances up from his book at this. He eyes the girl disdainfully before warning Felix, "I wouldn't go throwing that bit of information around, if I were you. Unless you want to get yourself hexed."

"What does that mean?" asks Felix confused.

"It means he's a coward," sneers the girl with diamond-like eyes and she flicks the boy with the book hard on the temple. The boy turns on her, snarling. They draw wands so fast Felix barely sees it and he flinches involuntarily.

The prefect intervenes. "Enough," he commands. "We don't eat our own."

The girl and the boy glare at each other, but lower their wands. Felix gazes at the prefect in awe.

The prefect crosses one leg over the other comfortably and addresses Felix. "What he means, Rosier, is that a lot of the students and staff here are related to people your cousin has killed. All in the name of the cause, of course, but still...you're not likely to make friends with anyone outside of the house by dropping his name."

Felix furrows his brow. "I don't understand. Aren't most people on our side now? My father says it's only ‘the dregs’ left."

The diamond-eyed girl chuckles at this. It makes Felix shiver.

"He isn't wrong. But the dregs make up a sizeable proportion of this place," she says scornfully.

When Felix continues to look puzzled, the prefect again interprets. "While the real war may be going in our favour, the school has not yet been cleansed. There are three other houses, each full of mudbloods and traitors who will hex you as soon as look at you just because you wear green. If they find out who your family is-"

"Let's just say, they'll attribute it a less pleasant sort of honour," the girl finishes. She mimes throwing a curse at Felix using her finger as a wand. He flinches again, visibly, and she laughs at him.

"Don't worry, Rosier," the prefect reassures him. "You're in Slytherin now. We're our own family here. We watch out for each other, have each other's backs. Never forget that." He puts an arm around Felix's shoulder and squeezes lightly. "It's why we're the top house."

A tingling warmth spreads through Felix's chest at the physical contact, burning away the nervous tension. The older students continue to chatter, but Felix only half-listens, focused on enjoying the feeling of belonging that he's craved for so long.

Winter 1980

"So, you're Felix Rosier," the older boy chuckles, straightening his green and silver tie. "Nearly had it there, didn't you?"

Felix scrambles to his feet, shame burning in his cheeks. He kicks aside the legs of the Gryffindor third year lying partly on top of him, immobilised by the older boy's timely jinx.

"Thank you," Felix pants, retrieving his wand from the floor.

"Bit old for you to go picking a fight with, isn't he?"

Felix scowls. "He's a mud-blood. He made a crack about my cousin."

The older boy makes a derisive chuffing sound and Felix looks at him more closely. Obviously in Slytherin, by his tie, but Felix hasn't seen him before. He's tall and well-built, exuding that casually confident air that Felix wishes for so desperately. He twirls his wand absently between his fingers, and Felix makes a mental note to practice that later.

"Mud-blood," repeats the older boy with something like amusement. "Listen kid, all that stuff about blood? It's a myth. Blood doesn't have anything to do with your magic."

Felix gapes at him. "But...my father says-"

" 'Rosier', right?" the older boy interrupts. "Yeah, you've got those old-fashioned sort of parents. Lots of people in our house do." The older boy motions for Felix to follow him and they set off down the deserted corridor. "Do yourself a favor," the boy continues, "Don't buy into all that rubbish. It'll hold you back from allying yourself with people who could be useful to you."

They come to a door at the end of the hallway, and the older boy opens it with a tap of his wand. Felix notices he doesn't have to voice his spell.

"Some of the most powerful wizards I know are muggle-borns. And the power of your magic is what matters." They step out into a hallway Felix has never seen before, and the older boy leads him toward a tapestry concealing a flight of stairs.

Felix isn't sure what to say. He's never heard anyone talk like this before. He realizes with a jolt that the boy must not be a Death Eater, the way he naturally assumes everyone in his house is.

"You don't work with the Dark Lord, then?"

"Nope. I only work for myself. Jump that step, it's a trick," the older boy warns, and Felix hops over the step in question hurrying to catch up.

"Choosing a side is just backing yourself into a corner," explains the older boy. He glances left and right before stepping off the staircase into a passageway Felix finally recognizes as leading to the dungeons. "Good guys and bad guys, right and wrong, that shit changes all the time. But you know what lasts forever?" The boy turns and winks at the open-mouthed Felix: "Treasure."

"What, like gold?" asks Felix, awe-struck.

The boy raises an eyebrow mysteriously. "There's all kinds of treasure, kid."

They've reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The older boy gives the password and the wall begins to open. He motions with his hand for Felix to go through.

"Aren't you coming?" Felix asks hopefully. He isn't sure he understands any of what the older boy is saying, but it's fascinating, and he doesn't want the conversation to end just yet.

The older boy shakes his head. "Nope. Things to do. Just wanted to make sure you didn't get yourself cursed on the way back. The halls are dangerous right now."

Felix hesitates. "Do you think...you could show me that jinx sometime?"

"Wish I could, kid, but between you and me? I don't think I'll be around here much longer." The older boy winks again, and sidesteps Felix before he can ask anything else. "But there's a book on dueling hidden in the artefact room. Look through it sometime. And remember what I said."

"I will," Felix assures him, wondering which of the many strange things the boy has said in their short conversation he's talking about specifically. Felix walks dazedly through the entrance wall, then remembers something and whips around.

"What's your name?" he asks as the bricks begin to close between them.

The older boy gives him a lop-sided grin. "Jacob Windsong."

Winter 1981

"You are Felix Rosier!" His father pronounces, giving the last name an emphasis bordering on reverence. "Rosiers do not give in the demands of peasants."

The first rule of the house is not to contradict his father. Felix knows this better than anyone.

"But my name doesn't mean anything anymore! Not to anyone at school! They-"

The sight of his father's drawn wand makes Felix's throat constrict and his voice fade away to nothing. His father lifts the wand to point at Felix's torso and he flinches involuntarily.

"Doesn't mean anything?" His father repeats the offensive words, his voice low and deadly. "It is a pureblood name of the most noble history. A leader even among the Sacred Twenty-Eight." His dark eyes flash with fury as he intones, "It means everything."

Felix's insides writhe in silent despair. He can't decide which he fears more: his father's wrath or finishing his second year at Hogwarts.

The two months since the fall of the Dark Lord have been chaos. It's open season on anyone with even the most distant death eater affiliation. Felix has lost count of the number of times he's been hexed in the halls, even by students in his own house, desperate to prove to the rest of the school they're not one of those Slytherins. We don't eat our own, his prefect had said. But that's all gone to hell now, and his prefect with it. Like most of the house, he disappeared before the holiday break.

"Beauxbatons is just as prestigious as Hogwarts," his mother ventures timidly from her chair near the fire. "And the estate in France needs caring for. Why not go where the name will be appreciated?"

His father turns his glare at his mother, who lowers her eyes like a dog.

"Because we've lost a battle, not a war." His father begins to pace. "The Dark Lord will return. And if he doesn't, someone else will rise eventually. I will not abandon the cause, nor let Evan's death be in vain."

He shoots a dark look at his son. His father had never made his preference for Evan a secret. He often remarked in Felix's presence how much more satisfactory Evan was in every way.

Jealously sparks inside Felix, rekindling his nerve. "Father, I don't want to go back. I want to go to Beauxbatons. I-"

His father stops pacing and revolves on the spot to face him.

Felix's voice falters. "Please."

His father does not speak until he's towering over Felix. His voice is so low it's almost a whisper, but Felix cringes at the fury behind each word.

"There are more important things than always doing what you want." For such a slight man, his father takes up an enormous amount of space. He's all Felix can see. "Want is for children. For lesser wizards. Those who do not have the weight of a sacred name to uphold. Do you understand?"

Felix nods.

"Answer me." His father's hand twitches toward his pocket where his wand is hidden. Felix gulps.

"Yes, sir."

His father grips Felix's chin and jerks his head up to look him directly in the eye.

"Evan is dead and I am in disgrace.” He says this without the least emotion. "As much as it pains me, you are the face of the Rosiers now." He relinquishes his grip on Felix, who keeps his eyes forward all the same.

"So, you will return to Hogwarts. You will excel. If they push you, you will push back. Harder. You will make the name Rosier great again. And you will not disappoint me. Do you understand?"

Felix's dread has not abated. It still sits in his stomach like a leaden weight. But there's something else growing in him now too. This is what he's always wanted. A chance to prove himself. To prove he's just as powerful as Evan was. That he can be what his father wants. That he is worthy of his name.

Felix lifts his chin a little higher, trying to mimic his father's perfect, imperious expression.

"Yes, sir."

Fall 1984

"You're Felix Rosier?" the Gryffindor girl called Angelica glares at him, arms crossed. "Cousin of Evan? Son of that bastard who bought his way out of Azkaban?"

Felix is on his feet, wand drawn in less than a second, but all three of the train compartment's other occupants are right behind him. The four new prefects size each other up, wands raised. The tall, lanky Ravenclaw prefect called Chester speaks first.

"Let's just all take a breath, okay? It we start dueling each other before we even reach school, they'll take our badges away." Chester sets his face grimly. "And I don't know about you, but I worked hard to be here."

Angelica and Felix regard each other warily, each lowering their wand at exactly the same time. The short Hufflepuff prefect called Jane mutters something that sounds like "Babies," before tucking her own wand away.

The train gives a lurch as it rounds a corner, and all four are forced to resume their seats before they topple over. A very tense silence follows. Felix keeps his face guarded, but his heart sinks into his stomach. This is exactly the sort of confrontation he's been dreading.

It's almost three years since the war ended, and the attacks in the halls have largely subsided. Slytherins still keep mostly to themselves, and Felix is no exception. But being a prefect has been his dream since his first year at Hogwarts, and he's not going to let anything get in the way of that.

"So, we're supposed to look over the list of rules and banned items." Chester references the roll of parchment they've been given to review. "It looks like they've added a few this year. First is-"

Angelica interrupts him. "How are we supposed to work with him?" She gestures at Felix. "He's practically a Death Eater."

Usually, Felix wouldn't rise to the accusation, but he's on edge. "I'm no more a Death Eater than you are a muggle just because you're related to them."

Angelica calls Felix something that makes his eyebrows shoot up his forehead and causes Jane to let out an eerily high pitched laugh. Chester grabs Angelica's arm before she can draw her wand.

"Okay, that's enough." Chester looks back and forth between the Sytherin and Gryffindor. "How on earth will we set an example for our houses if we can't even treat each other with civility?"

Felix gives the Ravenclaw boy an appraising look. He knows Chester only by his academic reputation. The two of them have always been neck and neck for top of the class, and Felix has only ever regarded him with the same wary competitiveness appropriate to any rival. Now, he feels a grudging admiration for his fellow prefect's dedication to responsiblities over rivalries. It's an attitude he wants to emulate.

Felix slicks his hair down where pieces have come out of place and takes a deep breath, turning to face Angelica again.

"How about, I'll keep quiet about your family if you will about mine," Felix proposes, his voice as passive as he can make it.

Angelica narrows her eyes, inspecting him closely. Felix has the impression she's searching for a sign he's mocking her, and he keeps his face as conciliatory as possible. After a minute, she mutters, "Whatever," crosses her arms, and looks stubbornly out the window.

"Do you really not mind working with muggle-borns?" inquires Jane, her strangely bland eyes on Felix. It unnerves him how little expression can be gleaned from her facial features.

"I'll work with anyone as long as they don't get in my way of being Headboy," Felix announces.

"No promises there," warns Chester. "Slytherins aren't the only ones with ambitions."

"No, just the ones who know how to achieve them," retorts Felix.

The two boys size each other up across the compartment. Then Chester smiles and Felix smirks.

Angelica rolls her eyes hugely at them.

"How about a truce, then? Until sixth year at least?" Chester suggests, looking around at the other three prefects.

"Very well," agrees Felix solemnly, trying not to sound too eager.

Jane nods.

Angelica wrinkles her nose. "Fine." She leans over and snatches the roll of parchment from Chester.

The three other prefects sink back into their seats as Angelica begins reading off this year's newly banned items. Chester glances across at Felix and repeats his tired smile. Felix can't quite bring himself to smile back - it's not an expression he often indulges in - but he tries his best to look appreciative.

He allows himself to relax in his seat just a fraction, enjoying the heady sense of pride and accomplishment that emanates from the prefect badge finally pinned to his chest. This year, for the first time, Felix feels confident enough to handle anything Hogwarts throws at him.

#felix rosier #felix rosier fanfiction #Jacob #hogwarts mystery #jacob's sibling #chester davies #angelica cole #jane court #hogwarts prefects #felix rosier x chester #felixxchester #felix/chester fanfiction #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hphm fanfiction #fanfiction #hphm #death eaters #slytherin #evan rosier

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rafamonzo · 5 months

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From the series : “Interpreting the Silent Artefacts” / R.Tanaka

http://rafamonzo.tumblr.com / http://tanaka-clan.tumblr

#photography #black&white #experimental photography #altered photography #altered landscape #experimental landscape #manipulated landscape #interpreting the silent artefacts

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ndfan3 · 1 year

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“Stop, thief!”

Nancy raced after the man. The young detective was in good condition and easily closed the gap between herself and the strange long haired bag snatcher. He cast the stolen bag to one side, but the sharp eyed sleuth noticed the glint of metal in the lowering sun and she realised that the thief did indeed know what he was looking for and almost certainly held the Sultan’s Ring tightly in his hand. Nancy paused only to glance at her discarded bag, and sped by, determined not to let the artefact entrusted to her be lost so easily. She increased her pace, her hope of catching the fleeing man rising as she noticed him slip in the damp sand, and nearly fall, before he regained his balance, and resumed his flight. However, he could not beat Nancy. Before too long, she had caught him up and kept an easy regular jog behind him as his breath came in ever more ragged rasps. “You may as well give up,” the girl called after him, “I can keep pace with you all day.” The exhausted man glanced over his shoulder at his pursuer, sweat pouring down his face. “Curse you, you female demon!” he hurled at her, but then suddenly he tripped in the increasing gloom on a protruding branch and went sprawling in the sand. The Ring spun out of his hand, landing at Nancy’s feet as she slowed, smiling in delight at her quarry’s collapse.

Later, Nancy, after having tied the glowering thief’s hands behind his back with her neck scarf, prodded the angry and disappointed man ahead of her, back up the beach. He glared bitterly at the young sleuth. “I will tell you nothing, witch!” he snarled. “Nothing!” Nancy, clutching the Ring like her life depended on it, simply looked back at her captive cooly, but said sternly: “Maybe not to me, but I suspect you will to Lieutenant Tariq!” The man paled at the name but then remained silent, not speaking again even as Nancy loaded him into the back of her car and set off for the police station, a little disconcerted at the man’s reaction.

My interpretation of the story behind this illustration of Nancy in pursuit of a bad guy.

#nancy drew #woman detective #capture #adventure

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art-thropologist · 4 years

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Cause & Æffect: art that speaks out, Indiana State Museum, Indianapolis, June 14th, 2020 — August 2nd, 2020.

In celebration of the centennial of women’s suffrage, the State Museum gathered together works from 14 different women artists who have lived, worked, or were born in Indiana. The exhibitions grants space to examine how art is used as a tool to speak out challenging topics such as mental health, the death penalty, migrant labor, and cancer. In doing so, visitors are asked to open themselves to conversations with each work and ponder how they can use art to create emotional affect and real-world effect.

Anila Quayyam Agha’s Flight of a Thousand Birds (2019) consists of a single stainless steel disk suspended before a blank wall, casting three overlapping shadows behind and two brilliant reflections before it.

The piece, in the didactic text, is meant to discuss the mingling of Agha’s multifaith and Pakistani/North American culture. The play between light/shadow embodies how there are identities that glance beneath our actions and our skin and also those that we reflect out to be seen. There is one person but the shadows they cast are indistinguishable as being from separate entities. Yet the identity we chose to show can be distorted by our environment or the situation in which we find ourselves in just as our shadows can. The circular and triadic geometry echoes the all-encompassing yet divisionary aspects of these facets. Though Agha’s piece references religion, these are not religious symbols like the crescent or the cross, choosing instead to preference aniconic influence. Agha gives no definite place to either side of her identity, instead creating a tangled after image of movement. Like a flock of birds taking flight, these patterns are constantly mingling and changing, just as our own sense of self shifts with the sun.

Mary Beth Edelson, on the other hand, takes an iconic masterpiece (Da Vinci’s The Last Supper) and recasts the apostles with (at the time, living) American women artists in Some Living American Women Artists/The Last Supper (1972).

Surrounding the altered print are the headshots of over 60 more women artists who have historically/culturally/academically not been given place in the art historical cannon. Georgia O’Keeffe takes the honored role of Jesus at the table. While not the first American woman artist by a long shot, she was one to bring them into the status of “Art Star”. Edelson’s piece is controversial in its appropriation of religious imagery for the discussion of feminism. If one is familiar with Linda Nochlin’s essay “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" a secondary interpretation arises; that the only way for these women to hold a place in the museum is for them to recapitulate the styles and performance of accepted male masters. Edelson’s print then can be read as an outcry against the lack of representation of female artists in museums (I personally would not be surprised if Edelson admitted to being a member of the Guerrilla Girls). Notably, none of the 13 artists representing the apostles belong to the traditional painting genre. They span the Expressionist, Surrealist, and Contemporary which is a solid rebuke against the Academic style represented by Da Vinci. It is a critique of the axiological system of the present art historical survey. Edelson also contributed story gathering boxes for visitors to fill out and start a conversation about what our mothers/fathers taught us about our gender and the binary opposite gender.

Lingering in the center of the gallery are two pieces about sexual violence. Lori Miles and Jeanette Johnson-Licon’s The Elephant in the Room (2015) is indeed an elephant in the room.

It is not obtrusively large or even within sightline when first approaching the gallery. Big, yes. Yet even the didactic calls the sculpture a ‘little elephant’. The pachyderm is made of plexiglass and a rolling wooden cart. The former material supplies a paradoxical presence. Elephants are massive and durable. Glass is typically not. The animal is here, and yet it is transparent. Present and invisible. A specter that haunts college campuses across the country. The Elephant embodies the conversations around sexual violence; the violence itself is ubiquitous, undeniably real, and clear to see, however that same transparency belies the greater reluctance to confront it, instead seeing right through it as if it is not there. The animal is minimized and rendered into slices that when removed from the whole become unrecognizable. One might argue that the choice to use glass is to represent how sexual violence is a delicate issue that must be treated with a feather-light touch. We don’t want to shatter the glass and cut ourselves on the pieces. But plexiglass is one of the strongest forms of glass available. It is used in shielding because of its resistance to fracture underscoring that the issue of sexual violence itself does not warrant such tedious handling. Of course, survivors deserve to be handled carefully. Not in the way a vase does, but in the way a living creature does. With respect, with gentleness and compassion. Afterall, when treated aggressively, elephants are known to stampede.

Beside The Elephant is a participatory installation by Monica Myer. The Clothesline (1978 - ongoing) began in Mexico City and has traveled across the continent to the heart of the heartland.

Its presence consists of two pink drying racks with lengths of nylon line running around the perimeter, pink cards are pinned to the nylon like laundry. The rectangular dimensions recall a child’s twin bed. Each card details the experience of sexual violence of an anonymous participant. A table is provided with blank cards for visitors to contribute their own testimonies. While there are other large installations in the gallery, the near neon pink of the paper draws the eye to it. This piece demands attention. The words scream silently from the paper. The Clothesline comes into conversation with The Elephant, the former laying bare the trauma that the latter represents. Together they take space and make an immovable statement.

This brings me to the only disappointment of the exhibition. Cause & Æffect presents itself as a celebration of the suffrage centennial…online. The gallery itself makes no mention of it. There is no signage, no didactic to clearly state such.

The lack of discussion around suffrage and the lack of acknowledgement that this is the centennial of white women’s suffrage. Black women would not get the vote until 1964 and First Nations would still be barred in some states until 1962. Given that there are several pieces in the exhibition specifically about elections and ethnicity and the ability of visitors to see the artefacts of suffrage one level down, the absence of any concrete reference to suffrage undermines that aspect of the exhibition as a whole.

Overall, Cause & Æffect challenges visitors to re-evaluate the role of art as a tool of inspiring change. It asks us what we will stand for, what we will speak out against, and how we will speak out for our cause? What visitors are presented with as a whole is a garden of community, pride, and revolution.

Homeschool/Field trip Activities

Elementary: What do you think makes a good neighbor? How can you be a good neighbor to your classmates? (House Life Project, 2017); What is a cause you care a lot about? How would you use art to talk about it?

Middle: Pick a cause represented by a work and write a paragraph about how it relates to one of the displays in the Natural History or Cultural galleries; fill out a form for the gender equality box, then look through other responses and journal your reaction to them; create a piece of art that reacts to the exhibition or a piece within it; you are a member of the suffrage movement, what art do you create to speak out for your cause?

High: Pick a cause represented by a work and write a page about how it relates to one of the displays in the Natural History or Cultural galleries. Include primary sources to support your thesis; write a paragraph about which of these works speaks loudest to you emotionally? Personally? Ethically? Locally?; what other times has art been used as a tool to speak out on a global stage? Why was it effective/affective? How did it invoke such responses? (For example Le Radeau de la Méduse (1818-19) by Theodore Gericault.); react to The Elephant and The Clothesline in whatever medium you feel is best.

#exhibition review #cause & aeffect #Indiana state museum

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